


Maybe One Day

by hayj



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-24
Updated: 2015-09-25
Packaged: 2018-04-23 05:21:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4864625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hayj/pseuds/hayj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Turning, she looks into eyes that are just as stricken as hers, but laced with a betrayal even greater. He wraps an arm around her waist as the room begins to spin. Guiding her out of the tent, they ignore Rachel's crying and Miles voice begging her to come back as Bass guides her towards his tent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt # 29 It was dark and held the smell of earth and blood
> 
> I may or may not have written this just so i could use the word "bosom." :) Prepare yourselves accordingly.

With a bizarre sense of Déjà vu, Connor approached Charlie as she sat cleaning various weapons outside the row tents that she and her family shared.  

 

Lost in her head and feeling somewhat safe surround by a few thousand of Texas' best, Charlie didn’t think too much about the person hovering nearby.

 

"What can I help you with?" she asked, not taking her eyes off the blade that she’s sharpening in front of her.

 

"I was hoping you might get me in to see my Dad."

 

It's a voice that she hasn't heard in months.

 

"Connor?"

 

"Hey Charlie, long time no see. Is Monroe around?"

 

"He's inside with Mom and Miles. I know, I know,” she replies, nodding in understanding as his brows rise, “but somehow, we've been able to make it work."  

 

She takes him by surprise when she grabs his arm and pulls him in for a hug. "He's gonna be really happy to see you," she says, wrapping her arms around him.

 

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Connor replies mysteriously, pulling away from her.

 

Charlie sucks in her bottom lip, biting down on it as a rush of protectiveness over Bass floods through her veins. They’ve become close over the last few months, putting any and all differences aside, focusing their energy on defeating the Patriots. They’ve become a better team than even he and Miles were back in the day, something to which both men have admitted to. She pushes a length of hair behind her ear. "Do you want me to bring him out here?"

 

He shakes his head. "No. We should probably do this inside."

 

The sinking feeling in her gut multiplies. "Okay."

 

She walks to the next tent over, stepping inside the entrance, blocking him from everyone's view as her eyes seek each of them out.

 

"What's wrong?" Miles instantly demands, seeing the look on her face.

 

She turns towards Bass, who’s stopped whatever he was doing over the map he and Miles are standing over as he waits quietly for her answer.

 

"There's someone here to see Bass.” She says to the tent in general, her brows drawing together before stepping aside to let Connor in.

 

"Connor?" Bass chokes out with a look unlike anything she's ever seen on his face as he staggers towards his son, wrapping him up in a warm embrace that brings tears to Charlie's eyes even though she’s picking up on the greater dynamics of the scene.

 

Miles motions towards Rachel and herself. "We'll let you two have a few minutes,” He tells the two men making his way towards Charlie.

 

""No!" Connor calls out stopping them. "I came here because I needed to tell you something. All of you,” he says, flashing a glance at Charlie.

 

"Okay, son," Bass smiles patting him on the back, “No one’s going anywhere.” Rachel returns to her seat on one of the beds as Miles sits beside her, holding her hand, leaving Charlie and the Monroe men standing.

 

"I just wanted to say that I'm sorry about what happened before. Neville was out of his mind and it just kept getting worse the farther North we went. Kept talking to his kid, asking why I wouldn’t talk to him."

 

Charlie’s face is carefully blank as everyone glances in her direction, the tightening of her jaw the only indication that she might be distressed.  

 

"I finally left him and headed home."

 

"Back to Mexico?" Bass asks, concern painted across his features.

 

Connor shakes his head. "No. Back to Jasper. I just need to see, you know?"

 

This time, it’s Bass and Miles who have schooled their features.

 

"Of course," Bass finally answers with a vigorous nod of his head. "How was everything?'

 

"They buried Mom next to Miles’ parents," he tells them, his voice oddly flat.

 

Bass and Miles both nod, but remain silent.

 

"I went to the house. They had kept it how it was, hoping I'd show back up. I stayed there for a few months, giving things away to the people in town. I don't plan on going back so there’s no need for it to sit and rot."

 

"That was very kind of you, Connor. I'm sure that would have made your Mother happy." Rachel responds with a kind smile.

 

"I hope so,” he says sincerely as he looks over at her.

 

"I also found some personal papers. I am so sorry," he says, handing it to Bass before taking a step back.

 

Charlie, not liking the implications, takes a step forward, her eyes darting between the two men as Miles leaves his place from beside her mother.

 

She watches as Bass unfolds the paper never taking his eyes from Connor until it's opened and he looks down at the paper which is actually a document.

 

"What is it?” Charlie asks taking another step forward as Bass seems glued to his spot.

 

"It's a copy of my Birth Certificate listing Miles as my father. Not Bass."

 

"No!" Miles almost bellows as he rips the paper from Bass hands quickly glancing over it as the two friend’s eye each other in disbelief.

 

Charlie’s eyes swing through the group, but come to rest on her mother who is as white as a sheet.

 

"Mom, what’s wrong?" Charlie asks as the rest of the drama surrounding her drops away.   

 

Bass is still fixated on the paper dangling from Miles’ hand, but Miles looks up at the tone of Charlie’s voice.

 

"Rachel?" Miles asks, letting go of the paper, coming to stand next to Charlie.

 

She finally looks up at them, her hands fisted in her lap. "You and Connor?" She manages to get out.  

 

"Now, is really not the time, Mom," Charlie says, trying to shut her down, not even wanting to think about the implications of having slept with her cousin, but Rachel continues.

 

"I don't know," she gasps, her eyes racing around the room.

 

"You don't know what, Rachel?” Miles asks sinking to his heels in front of her.

 

"I don't know who Charlie's father is," she says the implication of what she's saying hanging thick over the tent.

 

Bass, who was on his way out the door, stops at that announcement.

 

"And Danny?' Charlie asks, trying to keep the anger out of her voice as she watches her mother shake her head and Miles fall to his ass on the ground, scrambling away from the woman he loves.

 

"Oh my god,” Charlie says, her breath hitching as she backs up, inadvertently running into Bass.

 

Turning, she looks into eyes that are just as stricken as hers, but laced with a betrayal even greater. He wraps an arm around her waist as the room begins to spin. Guiding her out of the tent, they ignore Rachel's crying and Miles voice begging her to come back as Bass guides her towards his tent.

 

He sits her down on his cot, pulling her boots off before moving to grab his flask and a bottle. Handing her the flask, he circles round to the other side pulling off his own boots and takes a long drink from the bottle he's holding.

 

He and Charlie have gotten close since they banded together in this war against the patriots. He's learned that she can only be pushed so far before she fights, fucks, or flees and he can see by her expression that flee is in the lead and regardless of what he's feeling, he'll help her through this before he finds his own cliff to jump off.

 

Setting the bottle down, he leans back on the cot, pushing the pillows up behind him.

 

Tugging on her elbow, he pulls her down with him. She curls up against him, their bodies tangling in a way they never have before, burying her face in his neck as the tears start to fall.

 

One hand pulls her closer, rubbing comforting skin on skin circles against her back where her shirt has rucked up. His other hand lies heavy on her hip that has slid over his, where their legs lay tangled on the small cot.

 

She feels his body shake and their combined tears wet the pillow below her as she hangs on to the one solid thing in her life.

* * *

 

It’s mid to late afternoon when Bass wakes alone in his tent. The empty bottle and flask are sitting in the middle of his small table holding down a piece of paper.

 

Dragging himself to a sitting position he drags his hands over his face and hair. Pushing to his feet, he stumbles, making his way to the table. He reads the note, leaving it where it lies as he pulls a bottle out of his pack and staggers back to his bed.

* * *

 

After giving them more than enough time to wallow, Miles strides into Bass’ tent to find fewer bottles than he expected and a piece of paper on the table.

 

Keeping one eye on a passed out Bass, Miles grabs the paper to see his own chicken scratch, blowing out a breath as his eyes take in the short note. “Batman, don’t worry about coming for me. Robin”

 

He marches over to Bass’ cot, giving it a good kick. “Hey, Bass, wake up!” he demands.

 

Bass opens one eye before rolling over giving Miles’ his back.

 

“Where’s Charlie?” Miles demands.

 

“I don’t know,” Bass mumbles. “Hasn’t been here since sometime yesterday, thought she went home.”

 

“Well, she didn’t.” Miles barks kicking the bed again.

 

“What the fuck do you want from me, Miles? I got nothing left to give you!” Bass rolls over lashing out at his friend.

 

Miles takes a step back as he gets a good look at his friend. “Nothing, Bass. I don’t want anything. Here’s the note she left. If you think of anything, just let me know.” He says, tossing it on the cot. He opens his mouth to say something, anything, but words escape him. Turning on his heel, he leaves the tent.

 

Bass picks up the note, reading it once again, a bit more sober than the last time, the words hitting him like a brick. “Dammit,” he curses flinging himself off the cot storming out of his tent.

* * *

 

Bass brushes past the privates guarding Colonel Young’s office coming to a stop in front of his desk, palms resting on the edge.

 

“Where is she,” he practically growls

 

The man takes in Bass’ appearance with a neatly lifted brow. “She left on a train bound for Fayetteville yesterday.”

 

“Why?”

 

“We received Intel that there’s a town right across the border that the Patriots are converting into a re-education center. They’ll hold tight in Fayetteville for a few days doing some recon before going in and taking it out.”

 

“I’ll be back in an hour, Colonel. I expect there to be a train waiting and ready to go when I return.”

 

The Colonel scoffed. “I’m afraid it doesn’t work that way, General.”

 

Bass turned back to look back at the man. “It does for me, Colonel.”

 

Rushing back, he grabbed some clean clothes and spent a precious few minutes in the showers getting cleaned up. Once back in his tent, he packed what he did for every mission leaving the rest behind.

 

Digging around the piles of paper on his desk, he pulled out an unused sheet and grabbed a pencil, hastily scratching out a message for Miles.

* * *

 

Colonel Young had assured her that she had complete control over this particular mission and the higher-ups here in Fayetteville were more than happy to leave her and her men to it and that’s what she had done for the last day.

 

She had been studying a hastily drawn map of the town and surrounding area on the table in front of her, when she stopped to pour herself a drink. She ignored the sudden commotion outside, doing nothing more than laying her sidearm on the table within easy reach.

 

A few moments later, Bass came strolling into her tent like it wasn’t just days after she discovered that her entire life had been a lie and that she had probably slept with her brother, which meant he no longer had a son and other than anyone with the last name Matheson was truly alone in the world.

 

“Well, that took longer than I expected.” She said dryly, sweeping his body from head to toe.

 

“Was catching up on some beauty sleep,” he replied with an ugly grin.

 

“Drink?” she asked from over her shoulder, pouring him one regardless.

 

They were standing across the table from each other, his hand wrapped around hers, their eyes locked as she attempted to pass him the glass, when the commanding officer of the camp burst in.

 

“General! I was just informed of your presence in the camp. We had no idea you would be here to oversee the Captain.”

 

Tilting his head just briefly towards her, Bass straightened, pulling the drink towards him.

 

Charlie smirked before looking down at the map, letting him deal with Major Tightass.

 

“At ease, Major, no one is overseeing anyone so just relax,” Bass replied, taking a sip of his drink as he fell back into full Monroe mode, feet spread shoulder width, his free hand fisted at the small of his back.

 

“Per Colonel Young’s order the Captain is in charge of this assignment. I’m strictly here on a volunteer basis.”

 

Bass could feel Charlie’s eyes as they flicked upon his back.

 

As her eyes made contact with his back, she saw him release his fist for a moment before clenching it again.

 

“Yes, Sir.” The Major answered “We’ll see about getting the Captain another tent prepared. Captain, if you’ll come with me?”

 

Charlie raised an eyebrow, turning her gaze towards the man who actually took a step back.

 

Bass licked his bottom lip, trying to rein in his grin. “It’s fine, Major. The Captain and I am perfectly capable of sharing a tent. Aren’t we Captain?” he asked, swinging around to include her in the conversation.

 

“I’m sure we can make do, General, no need to displace anyone from their tent tonight.”

 

“Excellent!” Bass crowed turning back towards the Major with a smile. “Everything’s settled then.”

 

“Should I send over dinner trays?” The Major asked.

 

“No.” Charlie and Bass answered in unison.

 

“We’ll let you know if we need anything, Major.” Bass replied smoothing the poor man’s nerves over as he pushed him out the tent flap.

 

“Subtle.” Charlie remarked, setting her glass down on the table as General Monroe stalked his way towards her.

 

“You really thought you could disappear without me finding out?” he asked his beard scratching her jaw as his lips moved near her ear.

 

“I’m not talking to Monroe about this,” she replied calmly, running her hands along the edge of the table.

 

She closed her eyes as his hands come up to squeeze her shoulders, his forehead resting against the back of her head, his breath heavy against her throat. “Charlotte,” he finally breathed into her skin.

 

Turning in his arms, she took his hand, guiding him over to the bunk.

 

He followed her lead and kicked off his boots. Settling back on the cot, Charlie held her arms open, waiting for him. Easing himself down beside her, Bass rested his head on her bosom, an arm snaking around to her back, holding her close. She returned the favor by stroking his back up and down through his shirt, while the other hand raked through his hair, lightly scratching and stroking, holding him to her breast, this time giving the comfort instead of receiving it.

 

“You’re not allowed to go out and get yourself killed, Charlie,” he whispered after they’d lain there forever and were in that state between wake and sleep. “If you want to run away, I’ll run with you. If you want to fight, I’ll fight you, hell, I’ll even fuck you if that’s what you need, but under no circumstances are you allowed to go out and get yourself killed. You still have your whole family out there. If anyone dies, it’ll be me.” He turned his head to place a kiss on her breast bone right at the top of her cleavage.

 

“It’s always so amusing that you and Miles still think that you can tell me what to do,” she mused. “I’ve accepted a mission, and I’ll carry out my orders to the best of my ability just like I do every time. Whether or not I come home alive isn’t up to you, Bass. It never was and I’m sorry if some misguided promise to my mother and words said by me in the heat of the moment made you think it was. And, just to be clear, I wasn’t running away, I was just removing myself from the situation. I could definitely use a good fight, but that should be taken care of soon enough.”

 

“And the other?” he asked his voice rough and smooth all at once.

 

“Why don’t you kiss me and find out?” she murmured as her hand slid back around to his face, lifting his lips to hers.

 

His hand found it’s way to her cheek as he leaned in, his warm breath scalding her skin until his lips were touching her. Pulling away, he did it again, but this time seared her lips with his tongue until she completely opened to him.

 

He licked and nipped at her mouth as she slowly sunk down in the cot as he hovered over her, propped up on an elbow, his free hand on her waist sliding up and down her bare skin under her shirt.

 

Charlie can’t help the moan that escapes her throat while pressing up against the leg nestled between hers.

 

Pushing hair away from her flushed face, Bass ran his lips over her neck as his hand snuck up her torso, shoving her bra up to cup a breast, his thumb brushing over a plump nipple. Her own hands tugged at his shirt until she pulled away, yanking it over his head.

 

Bass takes advantage of the pause, helping her to remove her shirt and bra.

 

Charlie sighs in delight as his mouth goes straight for her breast, licking, and tugging at an already hardened nipple, enjoying the attention for a few minutes before tugging at his belt, their hands tangling in the fastenings until they're both able to free themselves from the confining constrictions, Bass sucking in a breath at the sight of her lush and naked below him.

He only has a moment though, before she’s moaning his name wrapping one hand around his cock, guiding him to the visibly wet flesh between her legs, while using the other to pull his mouth back to hers. He breaks the kiss as he sheaths himself inside of her, pressing his forehead against hers as he rasps out her name. She rotates her hips beneath him, causing him to slip further into her depths, her thighs cradling his body as she slides a heel up the length of his leg, digging it into the back of his thigh.

 

He takes the hint and keeping his eyes locked with her’s, begins to move, his mouth falling open at the exquisite feel of her body around his. Charlie isn’t immune to their connection either as she reaches up to cup a cheek with her hand, the thumb stroking his cheekbone, her lips meeting his as she punctuates his movements with her mouth. Their breath mingles between them as Bass keeps the pace slow, both acknowledging this thing between them, until Charlie moans his name against his mouth like a plea, her nails digging into his shoulder.

He shifts his position slightly and quickens his pace, watching as Charlie arches her back, her mouth falling open in a silent scream. Her pussy clenches around him like a vise and leans down to scrape his teeth roughly across a nipple causing her to cry out as her body jerks and shakes. He pulls out, setting back between her legs as he takes his self in hand, watching as she swings a leg on each side of the cot, to propel herself forward, her hands landing on his thighs, as her mouth replaces his hand. A muffled shout escapes his own throat as he comes the instant her lips wrap around his head.

* * *

 

They lie there on the small cot catching their breath as they stare up at the ceiling, her back fitted snugly to his front.

 

He's playing with strands of her hair and drawing circles on her belly. "Better?" He asks pressing a kiss to the back of her head.

 

"Not even close, but, I do feel a little more normal."

 

"Normal?" he scoffs.

 

She shrugs a bare shoulder in his face. "I just fucked the King of Crazy and compared to everything else in my life, that's downright normal."

 

He snorts in reply. "Thanks, I think."

 

She shoves an elbow in his gut as she pushes her way into a sitting position looking around for her clothes. "We need to get up. Greer and Riley will be back soon."

 

"Killjoy," he mutters, poking her just below the ribs where he knows she's ticklish causing her to giggle.

 

Once she's dressed, she reaches out to grab his wrist. "Thank you," she says, popping on her toes to kiss his cheek.

 

His eyes go soft as he gives her a half-smile, reaching out to stroke a thumb over her cheek.

 

She grins at him, pulling him towards the table. "Now, I know you're not a great strategist like myself and Miles, but come tell me what you think."

* * *

 

They take a break and head over to the mess tent to get something to eat. When they return Riley and Greer are outside their tent waiting for them.

 

Bass grabs a chair and watches Charlie go to work. She listens to the men's reports and then they fill in the missing details on the map that was given to her on her arrival.

 

He begins to feel as though he's on some type of deranged merry-go-round as he watches her circle the table, the two lieutenants circling to accommodate her.

 

She finally dismisses them, issuing orders that two-men details on three-hour rotations observe the town and explore any buildings if the opportunity presents itself. She's to be notified if anyone is more than a half-hour late reporting in and finishes it off by assigning the pre-dawn detail to herself and Bass.  

 

"You've never had morning sex have you?" he asks, pouring her a glass out of the bottle from earlier.

 

"Where did that come from?" she asks with an amused expression on her face looking up from the map she's studying.

 

"You gave us the early shift. Anyone in their right mind who's ever had morning sex knows that's the last shift you want."

 

She accepts the glass that he hands her, ignoring the way her skin twitches at the brush of his fingers. "And why's that?"

 

He circles around behind her, pushing the hair away from her neck. His lips almost brushing the skin behind her ear. "That's when it's the coldest, but you're wrapped up warm and snug in your lover’s arms in your comfortable bed. You're both soft and loose and your inhibitions are at their lowest." Charlie finds herself tilting her head towards his ragged voice, her long flowing tresses tangling with his short curls,"There's time to touch and taste and explore," his lips nibble at her lobe.

 

Her inhale sounds shaky, even to herself, as she pulls away from him putting some distance between them, a rueful smile on her mouth. "Time, is something I've never had."

 

His eyes are dark and shuttered when he finally replies. "Maybe one day."

 

Charlie nods her head in agreement."Maybe." Draining her glass she sets it down behind her. “We better get some shut-eye, it'll be time to go before you know it.”

 

He nods in agreement, blowing out the lamps as he follows her over to the cot, both of them toeing off their boots in easy reach and their jackets next to them.

 

She waits for him to settle on the cot, before laying beside him, her head cradled on his shoulder. This is not the first bed they've shared in the line of duty, but this time something feels different and it's not because they had sex earlier, she scolds her brain.

 

Ever since both of their worlds shattered inside that tent in Austin, they've both been hanging on by a string. Somehow, and don't ask her how, they're keeping those shattered pieces from scattering to the winds. Not for themselves, but for each other.

 

His chest lifts and lowers with a sigh as he pulls her close, burying his face in her hair. "I can hear you thinking. Just let it go for now. Tomorrow isn't going anywhere."  

 

She nods silently, slipping her hand up under his shirt to rest on the smooth planes of his abs. They're asleep within minutes.

 

 

 

 


	2. We've got nothing by time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bass’ heart sinks from his chest to his stomach in an instant. Twisting so that he could grasp her forearm, he forced her to look at him, his eyes bright. “I may have promised Rachel I’d keep you alive, but I can guarantee that no man but me will ever touch you again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pretty sure my tenses are all over the place on this one, which is nothing knew, but hopefully it's not too distracting.

Charlie is warm and comfortable for the first time in days when she hears Bass talking. "What's wrong?" she asks, instantly awake. "It's not time for us to be up yet."

 

Bass takes a moment to shake his head. She has the eeriest internal clock he's ever seen since Miles.

 

He waits as she lets him out of his bonds of hair and limbs. "It was Greer. James and Scott are overdue."

 

"Shit." She hisses sitting up next to him as they pull their boots on.

 

"They're already putting packs together for us. You'll carry the first aid. I'll carry the explosives."

 

She raises an eyebrow as she leans back to look at him her jaws clenched. "This is my mission, General."

 

"And I just overruled you, Captain."  

 

"You can't do that, Bass. It's not fair."

 

"I can and I will." He says, slipping on his jacket as he marches out of the tent leaving a fuming Charlie behind him.

* * *

 

He's going over the map with Greer, when she catches up, circling the area that Scott and James had been planning on searching. He hands it over, pointing to the area with his finger as he finishes giving last minute orders to Greer, who will be in charge of the men from Austin while they're gone.

 

Riley appears with their packs just moments later as Bass points out key areas to her. He's already decided on an ingress, egress, and a fallback spot if either of them are injured or separated. She keeps her mouth shut and taking her pack from Riley, heads out of camp.

 

Bass catches up with her a few minutes later, his long legs eating up the distance between them. "I'm sorry."

 

She chooses to ignore him, pursing her lips as she continues moving forward.

 

"Would you please stop and listen to me?" He asks, grabbing hold of her shoulder.

 

She comes to a stop, swinging around to face him. "You're forgiven for being a Dick, alright. Can we go now?" she asks swinging her hand in the direction they need to go.

 

He wants to tell her just how very much she's channeling Miles, but knows it won’t be appreciated, so keeps his opinion on that to himself.

 

"You were right and I was wrong." he mutters looking away from her.

 

A thousand watt smile lights her face as soon as the words leave his mouth. "I'm sorry, did you just say that the High and Mighty Sebastian Monroe was wrong."

 

"Don't push it, Charlotte," he says poking her shoulder with his finger.

 

She grabs it, turning to twist it up with her own as they start walking again. "Now, see. That wasn't so hard, was it?"

 

"You're an ass."

 

"Learned from the best," she grins bumping his hip with hers, falling into a comfortable silence.

* * *

 

They take five when they reach the outskirts of the town, pulling out the map to take one last look at the area they need to be searching.

 

Keeping to the shadows, they move from building to building. They find Scott first, his neck snapped as he lies sprawled out in an open doorway a few streets in.

 

She and Bass make eye contact, each giving a slight nod that they’ll continue looking for James, even though it doesn’t look good.

 

The sun's coming up and they’re a dozen blocks in when they find her, strung up in the middle of the street. She’s being tortured for information, so they have two choices. They can either extract her, which will be damn near impossible given the extent of her visible injuries, knowing that every recruit will be after them and not knowing if any type of brainwashing has begun, or they kill her themselves.

 

Charlie closes her eyes briefly before opening them and holding out her hand to Bass who hands over the one weapon with a silencer. She hopes they’ll be able to make it out after this but refuses to do nothing. She stands as she aims for the woman’s head and pulls the trigger.

 

A shout rises up in the distance. “Run!” Bass whispers harshly, taking the lead.

* * *

 

“I need you to promise me something, Bass.” Charlie pants as they crouch back to back behind the broken brick wall that they’ve taken cover behind.

 

Bass’ entire body tensed. It was few and far between that she ever asked him for anything and given the circumstances, it scared the hell out of him.

 

“Anything for you, Charlotte.”

 

Charlie’s eyes half close as an unexpected chuckle makes its way out of her chest at his persistent use of her first name.

 

She licks her lips. “The Patriots.” She chokes out, causing him to swing his head back briefly in her direction before rising up to pop off a few more shots.

 

“What about them?” he asks gruffly.

 

“You know what'll happen if they capture me.” She stopped speaking to shoot a man whose head came into her sights. “Promise that you’ll take care of me before that happens.”

 

Bass’ heart sinks from his chest to his stomach in an instant. Twisting so that he could grasp her forearm, he forced her to look at him, his eyes bright. “I may have promised Rachel I’d keep you alive, but I can guarantee that no man but me will ever touch you again.”

 

Charlie’s eyes go wide at all the implications that statement holds. Now, that he finally decided to take what he wanted they were going to die? “Well, just how fucked up is that?” Charlie mutters earning a smirk from her companion.

 

“How do you want to play this?” she yells out over the sound of shotgun blasts hitting the brick wall above their heads.

 

“The only way we can play it. We’re going to Geronimo the hell out of it.”

 

“What does that even mean?” she shouts back.

 

“You take the left, I’ll take the right and I goddamn better see you on the other side!”

 

Charlie nods, eyes glistening in her blood splotched face.

 

Bass grits his teeth against the look she’s giving him and turns away. “Now!”

 

They both stand, firing their weapons as they take off running in their assigned directions, stopping for cover when they could, snagging an extra weapon if it was in reach. They’re nearing the end of their gauntlet, the gunfire getting more sporadic from the other side when he hears Charlie yelp and her gun go silent.

 

No, No, No! He was the one that was supposed to die, not her! Charging out in the open, desperate to get to her side, he doesn’t feel the bullet that enters his arm or the one that slices through the outer flesh of his thigh. Reaching her side of the street, he takes cover behind a rusted out mini-van as he searches for her.

 

He finally sees her hair the next block up, spread out over the ground and watches her body jerk as a gunshot goes off, her scream of agony ripping through the air.

 

Jumping to his feet, he races down the street, guns blazing as he rounds the corner, killing the two men standing over her.

 

“Charlie!” he grunts dropping to his knees beside her, taking in her injuries, his hands reaching for her face.

 

“Bass,” she says weakly, turning her head towards him, “hurts.”

 

“I know, baby, I know. But we’ve got to get you up and moving if we’re going to make it out of this alive.” He answers, using his knife to rip the bottom of both their shirts off. Wrapping one strip around the shot to her thigh and the other around the bloody mess that’s currently acting as a hand, he hauls her to her feet. Keeping her good hand free, he shoves a gun in it as he plasters her body against his.

 

“We’ve got to get out of here and fall back to the pick up spot and we can’t do that if you die on me.”

 

“Wouldn’t give you the satisfaction,” she says hoarsely gripping the gun in her good hand, “so let’s get the hell out of here, Monroe.”

* * *

 

Traveling to their extraction point, Bass spots a deep hollow between the copse of trees on the side of the road. Propping Charlie up against one of them, he drops his pack, untying the blanket from the bottom, spreading it down on the ground before helping her to lay upon it. Checking her wounds, he was satisfied that the snow he was keeping them packed with had helped slow the bleeding. Now, if he can just get her to the medics before hypothermia kills them.

 

Charlie watches him wearily with red-rimmed eyes as he spills the contents of her bag out onto the ground next to her, setting aside food, water and the first aid supplies her pack was stocked with.

 

“Hungry?” He asks, gesturing to the jerky and dried fruit he’s set aside. Charlie shakes her head, as a wave of nausea rolls through her belly. “You need to at least drink, then.”

 

Uncapping the lid, he holds her up, helping her to take several sips from the bottle before laying her back down.

 

Charlie looks on with a frown.

 

“What?” he asks, reaching out to stroke her cheek with the back of his hand.

 

“Your shirt. It’s the black v-neck. It was my favorite on you.”

 

The side of Bass’ lips twitched in an attempt not smile. “Do tell?” he asks, thinking that as long as she was talking, she was alive.

 

Charlie shrugs, watching as he quickly binds his own wounds. “It looked nice on you.”

 

“You mean like these pants did on you?” he gestures as he rips the hole he’s already made on her pant leg larger. The bullet had gone through, exiting cleanly, but the wound had bled like crazy. I need to get this stitched up. The snow should have your skin pretty numb.

 

“Just do what you need to do, Bass. I’m not going anywhere.”

 

“There’s that can-do attitude,” he whispers against her cheek as he reaches across her for the suture kit.

 

She chuckles, closing her eyes as he rips open the package.

 

The only indication that she’s in any pain as he makes the first stitch is the hitch in her breath and the hold she has on what’s left of his shirt. She keeps her eyes on him as he works on the entry wound, watching the skin between his brows wrinkle in concentration as he tries his best to keep the stitches straight and neat.

 

Soaking a cloth in alcohol he places it on top of the wound and helps her to roll to her side, keeping her injured hand protected. By the time he’s finished with the exit wound she’s passed out from a combination of exhaustion, blood loss and pain.

 

Leaving her as she is, he takes the opportunity to unwrap her hand and dab at the edges with a cloth, cleaning it as best he can, tears swimming in his eyes. She’ll be lucky if it can be saved. Even luckier if she’s able to use it again.

 

He knew that she knew it as well, putting on a brave face as she told him what had happened when the men in the alley had caught her off guard.

 

The surgeons that Frank had gathered in Austin were her only hope at this point, which meant that he needed to get her home, sooner rather than later, but for now has no choice but to wait to be picked up. Carefully wrapping himself around her, mindful of her injuries, he pulls their other blanket on top of them, his handgun resting on the small of her back.

* * *

 

Miles nodded in approval when he saw the copse of trees ahead. Easing back to let Geer catch up to him, they slowed their pace as they approached the area, Miles finally ordering the man to pull over and hold tight while he checked it out.

 

Tying his horse to a nearby tree, Miles silently made his way down the slight ridge to the hollow below. He bent over at the waist, as the smell of earth and blood hung heavy in the darkened hollow, afraid to go closer, not wanting to know one way or the other.

 

“Bass,” he croaked raising his head waiting for a reply. “Charlie?”

 

He saw a flutter of movement from Charlie, nearly every inch he could see of her bloodied, as she reached up to touch Bass’ jaw.

 

Bass’ eyes flew open and a gun was suddenly pointed in Miles’ face.

 

“Woah, Bass! It’s me. It’s Miles.”

 

“Miles?”

 

“Yeah, buddy. Came to save you from your stupid.”

 

Closing his eyes, Bass’ head tilted down till his lips were touching Charlie’s forehead. “Miles, she’s bad, real bad. We need to get her home.”

 

Miles eyes moved back and forth between the two before he gave a sharp nod. Hurriedly climbing to the road, he called Greer over with the wagon before tying his horse to the end of it.

 

“I found them! Get that wagon bed ready. They’re cold and injured.”

 

Greer didn’t reply, just climbed in the back and began to spread out a few blankets to cushion the bed of the wagon. When Miles appeared carrying Charlie, he helped him place her on the bedding.

 

“It’s her hand and her thigh. When I bring Bass up, put them under the same blankets. It’s all about body heat until we get them back to camp.”

 

Miles disappeared again, before half carrying Bass up the hill with him. Geer bundled them together under the blankets as Miles hopped in the driver’s seat, hell bent for camp.

 

With a tired nod at Greer, Bass wrapped a hand around Charlie’s neck. It was the last thing he remembered for a while.

* * *

 

When he came to, Bass blinked heavily, trying to make out the silhouette in the darkening room.

 

“Miles?”

 

“He’s with Charlie.”

 

“Connor?”

 

“Yeah.” Connor poured him a glass of water, bringing it to him as he sat up, swinging his legs off the bed. “Miles wanted to spend some time alone with her.”

 

“Damn it,“ Bass hissed setting his glass down gently on the table next to him.

 

They stayed silent for a few moments before Bass stood, Connor reaching out to stabilize him. He was dressed in nothing but his boxers, a bandage wrapped around his upper thigh and another around his bicep.

 

“They both needed stitches, but Geer says they’ll heal fine as long as you keep them clean.”

 

Grabbing a pair of jeans lying at the end of the bed, Bass slipped them and his button up shirt on, leaving Connor where he stood.

* * *

 

Bass entered the med tent where he could see Miles sitting next to Charlie’s bed, his hand trailing through her hair as he stared into space over her head.

 

Bass made his way over, placing a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Hey, how’s our girl doing?”

 

“She’s hanging in there.” Miles rasped out smoothing a thumb against her brow. “If we can keep the infection out till we get back to Austin, she might have a chance of keeping it.”

 

“And the best chance of that would be heavy duty antibiotics, which I’m guessing they don’t have a lot of.” Bass said looking around the tent.

 

Miles nodded. “Wouldn’t happen to have any lying around would you.”

 

Bass shook his head slowly in thought. “No, but I might know where we can find some.”

 

Miles head shot up.

 

“That town is a Patriot training center. You can’t tell me they don’t have some kind med center established.”

 

“You up to riding?”

 

“Anything for a Matheson, brother. You know that.”

 

Miles kissed Charlie’s forehead and stood grasping Bass good shoulder. “Thank you, Bass. I know….I’m so sorry.” He finally managed to get out.

 

Waiting till Miles left the tent, Bass bent over Charlie, placing a chaste kiss to her too warm lips. “You hang on Charlotte. You hear me? Just hang on a little bit longer.”

* * *

 

It was a trip that saw them and Connor to the patriot town and back, leaving a swath of bodies in their wake the likes of which would have made President Monroe and General Matheson proud.

 

Making their way upon the train that was waiting for them, Bass passed the antibiotics off to a waiting soldier.

 

“How is she? Miles asked, pushing into the car they had set up as a traveling infirmary.

 

“Awake.” They heard her croak from the bed as the Medic traveling with them stepped away from her IV.

 

“Hey, Kid,” Miles said, sliding in next to her, placing a kiss on her brow. “How’ya doing?”

 

She grunted turning her head towards Miles. “Feel like shit.”

 

“You look like shit,” he replied, trying to ignore the furious whispering taking place at the door.

 

“Where’s Bass? All they would tell me was that he was okay.”

 

Miles arched a brow at her use of the name Bass but let it go. “He’s getting the stitches that got ripped open taken care of.”

 

She closed her eyes, letting the coolness of his hand soothe her brow and must have dozed off for a bit, because the next thing she knew he was gone from her side and Bass was laying in the bed beside her.

 

“You’re alive.” She whispered, causing his eyes to fly open.

 

“I’m too damn mean to die,” he said with a soft smile, brushing her hair away from her face.

 

Charlie chuckled as she clasped his hand before he could remove it. “I’m scared, Bass.”

 

He rubbed her knuckles with his thumb. “I know. I am too, but guess what?” He asked leaning towards her ear, “We’ve got nothing but time now,” he whispered placing a kiss just below it, “and I’m not going anywhere.”

 

 

 

 


End file.
